Revanchists
by SavageBetty
Summary: The Mandalorian War, from the Exile's point of view.  Not strictly canon .


(A slight rewrite to an older piece, a change of Exile and a change of Revan.)

_I flip the 'saber in my hand. Each time it vaults up, it spins, and lands back in my palm with a quiet slap. Somewhere to my right a soldier's boot taps, beating out a nervous, quick rhythm. Across from me on the next row, another man religiously checks and rechecks his blaster rifle every thirty seconds, the snap and high-pitched hiss of the heat sink filling the hold. All around us there's a soft percussion of coughs, shuffling and soft grunts. It melds together, weaving into a symphony of anticipation, all the while supported by the constant hum and tick of the drop-shuttle's tired engine._

_A voice buzzes and crackles over the intercom- the shuttle captain. His voice is strained, fatigued, and a palpable ripple washes over the hundred men and women in the shuttle's hold._

_"Sixty seconds 'till atmo. Buckle up and prepare for drop," he almost wheezes before the intercom cuts off and it's just us and the engine again. That's my cue. I recite the words in my mind a second before they tumble from my mouth, today's plan as familiar to every man now as the back of their hands._

_"Doors open, Jedi out first," I raise my voice and stand, grabbing a dangling hand-hold for balance as the shuttle rattles. Ninety-nine pairs of ears and eyes are turned my way. I try not to think of how clammy the armour feels on my skin. "Prep, hit the ground, wait for our signal. Rifles cover for mortar crews. Shields up as soon as you're out. Infantry on our asses through the long grass. Force has got a sense of humour, but it's with us all." I'm getting good at false confidence now. "Let's nobody die today."_

I remember quite clearly the day I decided to go to war. It was sunny, warm, chances of rain later. The air in the enclave had a stillness to it- the kind that only comes with shared shock, and grief. All that we knew to be good and right in the galaxy was all but crippled.

Alek stood with me in the courtyard. I could feel his anger, and his sorrow, poorly masked, as more news came of crushed Republic fleets. I looked up at him, and after a moment I realized it wasn't his emotion I was feeling. It was my own, with a healthy dose of bitter outrage.

"Where is she?" I asked, and Alek glanced down at me, a hint of something devious brewing behind his eyes. He replied with a question.

"Do you think we should stand by?" My answer was pretty clear in the sneer of disgust I let loose. He smiled at me then, and took my hand. "Come with me."

Revan. Though, we didn't know her as 'Revan' then. He was down in the sub-level in the library hall. I couldn't have physically gotten in unless Alek has been there, carving the way. Revan was standing on a table, her voice carrying lashings of its usual charisma, and something more. She swept her hair back, threw me a grin as she saw me. A young, brown-haired padawan sporting pigtails and a self-righteous pout standing next to me gave me what can only be described as a maliciously jealous glare. I ignored her, and turned my attention back to what was holding the room in rapture.

"This has gone far enough!" Revan set her shoulders as her voice rang out. "The Council has sat back." Jeers and murmurs echoed her audience's agreement. "Done nothing. Shown no compassion. Helped no one." The murmurs grew louder. "While the Republic has been under siege from cowardly dogs out for nothing but glory."

Murmurs became heckles of enthusiasm, laughter sounding when one Jedi called out a word in Mando'a. "Hut'uuns!"

She smiled from up on her makeshift podium. "Exactly." She wasted no more time. "I will not sit around. I _cannot_ stand by while the Mandalorians take what they want. Come with me to Cathar. See for yourself the atrocities these animals have committed."

More cheers rose up from the crowd, padawans, Jedi and Masters alike, their voices combined. Mine was among them.

"No more!" Her fist shot into the air, and so did everyone else's. She'd mesmerized us, helped us find our voice. She jumped down from her makeshift podium, and the crowd parted for her. She reached Alek, who clapped her hard on the shoulder. He looked at me, then, smiled, and held out his hand. I took it without hesitation. Vrook Lamar and a dozen other old men could only watch as a hundred Jedi followed us out to the hangar and up, away from Dantooine.

I shook a little, strapped into the cockpit while Alek sent a message out to all the Jedi, across the galaxy. Something roared in my chest, the thrill of disobeying the Council, the triumph of deciding to do the right thing. Or maybe it was the spell Revan had cast on us all with her words. We were hers, now. Revanchists all.


End file.
